


Point System

by trilliath



Category: Mass Effect
Genre: Bromance to Romance, Competitive, Drunk!, M/M, Top!Garrus
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-06-04
Updated: 2012-06-04
Packaged: 2017-11-06 11:44:09
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,001
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/418518
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/trilliath/pseuds/trilliath
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>When Garrus takes Shepard out on their "date" on the citadel and jokingly says "So are you going to propose marriage now?"... Shepard decides to take a chance and says yes. Which inserts a bit of an issue into their bromance (yeah it was always there, he just finally brought it up).</p><p>So this story takes place after when they proceed to continue their "date" getting drunk in the Normandy's lounge, where Garrus tries to explain why it'll never work (duh, sex!), and Shepard <i>convinces</i> him otherwise (uh... SEX). With thorough proof.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Point System

"Oh, remember that one time on Nodi… Nodacrux..."  
He frowned, glaring off into space through the large window of the port lounge as if he could see the errant planet, "Who the fuck names these things?"  
Garrus just shook his head, flaring his mandibles in amusement.  
"Well anyway, you remember when I biotically threw that fusion-containment cell into that psycho exo-geni chick and then," he mimed taking a pistol shot and then threw his hands wide, " _Prchhhhh_... explosion cleared the whole room in one shot," he said, wobbling in his synth-leather seat. He grabbed the edge of the low lounge table to steady himself.

"That was cool," Garrus admitted. "Point," and took a swig of the triple-protein-filtered … something alcoholic. He couldn't make out the human script on its label, just the stamp that said "Dextro-safe!" on the side in turian and quarian script. 

"I bet you totally wanted to do me after that one," Shepard claimed, smirking at his turian companion.  
Garrus snorted and rolled his eyes.

"Totally wanted to do you," Shepard said under his breath, huffing in petulant defeat and plopping his chin down onto his balled fist on the table. 

Garrus didn't respond to that, and Shepard wasn't sure he'd heard, except for the fact that the turian sent him an unfathomable look. Shepard sighed and took a drink even though it wasn't his turn. Definitely needed more alcohol. Fortunately, he thought, glancing at the small bar the Normandy boasted, Cortez bought stuff by the case.

"Yeah, that _was_ a good explosion…" Garrus added, contemplating his glass. "But that was nothing to the time I took out all of those flierss and three fuel tanks _and_ that geth destroyer on Virmire with just my overload charge," Garrus said, leaning back as he flicked his left hand in mimicry of his overload disbursement. He smirked, relaxing his shoulders at a jaunty angle. The effect was slightly lessened by the fact that his tongue kept getting caught on the S sounds of his words.

"Ugh. True. Point," Shepard said, taking another healthy gulp of the terrible booze. He glared at it. Maybe it wasn't a good thing Cortez bought by the crate after all.

"What about that thresher maw on Antibaar?" Shepard said, waggling his eyebrows.

"Doesn't count," Garrus said, shooting the human an exasperated look.

"What? But it was such a great shot!"

"Mako," Garrus insisted, his voice slurring the O sound slightly longer than needed. "Doessn't count. Drink."

Shepard cursed under his breath and took another drink.

"Are you sure you want to play this game? You're never gonna win at thiss you know," Garrus added with a cocky tilt to his mandible.

"Oh I'm winning," Shepard muttered, glancing at the nearly empty bottle next to him.

Garrus snorted a laugh under his breath.  
"I'll drink to that," he said taking another drink. He drained the glass for good measure. Because, why the fuck not?

"Your turn," Shepard demanded, grabbing the bottle and topping off both their glasses.

Garrus grinned like he'd been saving this one up. "BOTH turrets at the end of that bridge between the Dantiuss towers, in the wind, sniped before they could even get their targeting scannerss up."

"Fuck," Shepard said and downed another drink.  
Garrus snickered as he watched the human acknowledge his win. 

"Ok, ok… thosh two YMIR mechs in that… you know, that one ship, all with one shot dropping that fuel tank on them,"

"Tali, actually," Garrus said, looking at him like he was an idiot.

"Really?" Shepard frowned at his glass, perplexed.

"Definitely. She didn't let us live that one down for weekss," Garrus reminded him, gesturing sharply with his glass and sloshing alcohol over the table. 

"Oh, shit you're absolutely right. How did I forget that?"

"Awesome shot though," Garrus reminisced, tilting his head.

"Hell yes," Shepard replied, and raised his glass, "To Tali'Zorah vas... wherever the fuck she is," he said affectionately. 

Garrus laughed and sloshed some of his drink over before steadying his hand and downing another swig.  
"To Tali… Why isn't she here?" He squinted at his glass, "Oh yeah. Nevermind. Admiralty stuff."

"Ok no, here it is, that Harvester, just the other day, with that dark star thingy," he said with a triumphant grin at his drunk friend.

"Ok, yeah, _that_ was an _excellent_ explosion. Point," Garrus acknowledged, taking his swig.

He nodded, sitting back in his chair with an oof.  
"I can't think of any more," Shepard said with a slight hic-up. "Kinda runs together," he added, frowning. 

"I win. Again," Garrus said smugly, waving his glass in the air.

"Shove it Vakarian," Shepard muttered with a grin, "you only win because I'm too drunk and there are far choo many great shots I made for me to disti.. du… stinguish betweesh them," he said, pointing senselessly at the turian.

Garrus just crossed his arms in a wobbly motion on looked at him with a raised brow-plate and a bemused expression. 

Shepard stared back with a petulant expression. Garrus held his stare until he heaved a sigh.  
"Yeah, yeah… ok you win. I guess that's one reason to keep you around," Shepard said rolling his eyes and grinning at his companion.

Garrus flared his mandibles in a grin and they both settled back into their seats, enjoying the feeling of being thoroughly drunk. It was not something either of them was usually comfortable doing. Too much to accomplish, too many people trying to kill them, to ever want to really lower their guard - especially both of them at the same time.  
But after nearly four years of all this chaos they'd been through together, all the things that never got said, all the habits and roles built up between them… and in contrast, their "date" on the citadel, Garrus's teasing mention of marriage, John's less than teasing agreement. It was becoming painfully apparent that some guards and inhibitions needed to be lowered... at least for a little while. 

"So thish, ah, marriage thing," Garrus said, grunting into his glass. 

"Yup," Shepard replied, rolling the second empty bottle down the table with the aim of sending it into the receptacle that sat past its end. It rattled as it rolled, then bounced off the edge of the table and made a satisfying thunk when it landed in the bin.

Garrus snickered at him as he pumped his fist at making the shot.  
"Yeah well you're forgetting sssomething very important," Garrus continued in a slurred grumble, waving his once-again empty glass over at Shepard.

"Oh yeah?" he replied, thinking idly how glad he was that he was drunk enough to no longer be worrying about how much he might have fucked things up between them by pushing this line of conversation earlier that day at the top of the presidium.

"Yeah," Garrus confirmed nodding his head firmly, then looking at his glass in confusion. They sat in silence for a long moment, both lost in their own drunken thoughts.

Damn glass was empty again. The fuck. _What were they talking about again?_ John thought as he reached for the third bottle to pop it open and shakily fill his own glass. He gazed at his steadfast companion, who was currently glaring at his glass as though his visor would explain why it was now empty. _Oh, right. Marriage._  
"So what is it?"

"What?" the turian asked, confused. He solved his confusion by grabbing the bottle from Shepard to splash some into his own glass. Most of it ended up on the table. 

"The thing I'm forgetting?" Shepard asked and tilted his head and considered licking up the liquor to save it the indignity of being wasted on a table. He screwed up his mouth in a pensive twist, but then thought the better of licking the table during what was probably an important conversation.

"Oh that," Garrus glared at his glass, then tipped another healthy swallow into his mouth, tossing his head back in the way only turians did. "Sexx," he finished, lifting his chin and glaring over at Shepard.

"Is that all?" Shepard replied with a superior smirk. Well mostly. He seemed to be having trouble getting his head to stay at the jaunty angle such a smirk usually demanded. He gave up and opted for another sip of the horrific swill Garrus had selected for them.

"Hey, sex iss a very integ- inter... important part of any marriage," Garrus replied, indignant.

"Oh abpsolutely," Shepard agreed.

"So _that's_ why we can't get married," Garrus said, as though it were obvious.

Shepard frowned. Somehow he was losing the argument again.  
Hah. He smirked. There was always one way to get him riled up. 

"Are you telling me, _Garrus Vakarian, Sniper Extraordinaire, Badassh of Omega_ , that you aren't any good in bed?" 

"Hey! That'ss not...," Garrus growled, "I'll have you know I'm _very_ good in bed."

"Oh yeah?" Shepard said, glaring at him. Damned turian saying shit like that with that low voice… it was doing _things_ to the pit of his groin. Damn well wasn't fair. 

"Yeah," Garrus replied firmly.

"Well maybe I don't believe you," Shepard said, taking another sip dismissively. Well, would have, but he had to focus really hard for a second to make sure the glass lined up right. "Maybe you oughta prove it," he added.

Garrus stared at him, mouth slightly ajar. He sucked in a quick breath.

"Spiritss Shepard, it's not... We're not even the same species, let alone..." his slurred speech trailed off, mandibles flaring eloquently.

"So?" Shepard asked, rolling his eyes.

"There are incom… issues. Species things. That's what I meant to say in the firsht place," Garrus rambled, then considered his glass again before draining it.

"Oh come on, when has anything that insignificant ever stopped ush?" Shepard demanded, adding a smack of his fist on the table for good measure.

"Seriousssly Shepard, I've thought this through. Our two speciess? It's not exactly an easy mission," Garrus said and turned a narrow-eyed gaze on him. 

Shepard fought the stupid grin that tried to make its way onto his face at that probable unintentional admission of forethought. 

"Like you would know what to do with a turian in your bed anyway," Garrus said with a snort, tossing back another sip.

Shepard laughed, "I'm pretty sure that if I can save the citadel, survive being dead, and defeat the fucking collectors," he said, glaring back, "That I can figure out how to fuck a turian," he finished, grinning across the table at Garrus' narrowed look, feeling slightly insulted.

"Riiight, he drawled, "I forgot. It'll just," he waved a hand, " _work_ , 'cause you're _Commander Fucking Shepard_ ," he said with a good-natured sneer.  
"Anyway, I had to help you for all that other stuff," he added, tilting his head back arrogantly.

"I _am_ Commander Fucking Shepard. And hey, that's my point," he said gesturing with an aimless finger. "What the fuck in the galaxy has ever stopped the two of us?" Shepard demanded.

Garrus tilted his head considering. "Point," he said, and took another large drink.

Shepard scowled at him. "Which is why, now, I think you're just being chicken," Shepard accused.

"I don't even know what that means Shepard," Garrus said, rolling his eyes.

"You're scared," Shepard explained. That got a reaction. 

Garrus slammed his glass down and leaned forward over the table, all preadatory grace. "I'm not scared of you," he grumbled.

"Nah, I bet you're scared of fucking me though," Shepard contended, made bold by alcohol.

"Not. Scared. Of. You," Garrus repeated, scowling at him.

"Yeah?"

"Yeah!" He snapped, curling his three fingers around his glass. 

"Prove it," Shepard demanded, lifting the bottle in their customary bet.

Garrus hesitated a moment, glaring at him, then continued, "Well maybe we should go do that," Garrus said.

"Maybe we should!"

They glared at each other.

"You know what?" Garrus growled, slamming down his empty glass. "FINE! I am going to fucking prove it, Shepard. Let's do this," 

"FINE," Shepard replied, as he slammed his own glass down.  
He couldn't help the wild grin that suffused his face as the turian smirked at him.

The turian wobbled to his feet, still managing to make the maneuver graceful. He headed for the door with careful steps. Shepard rose to follow him.

"Hey we need the, that, the thingy," Garrus said, waving a hand in the direction of the bottle.

"Oh yeah," Shepard mumbled, turning back to grab it.

Garrus was already striding out of the lounge when he looked back. 

"Hey wait up," he added, stumbling after him, bottle in hand.

Garrus marched in perfect military form, the tried and true method of any intoxicated soldier; default to the automatic motions ingrained through hours of drill.  
Shepard wasn't sure why he thought that was so funny but a snicker escaped his mouth as he wobbled far less efficiently next to his best friend. Garrus turned to glare at him, and promptly lost his direction, marching straight into the corner.

Shepard laughed harder this time, stumbling against the wall himself.

Garrus managed to extricate himself from the corner's devious grasp and marched onward. Much to Shepard's confusion he marched straight past the elevator. Shepard stood there frowning as Garrus followed the curve of the hallway around. 

"Hey, no more calibrations," Shepard exclaimed, indignant.

Garrus just glared at him, marching forward. "Med bay," he said.

"Huh?"

"Spirits, Shepard, don't you know anything?" Garrus asked, exasperated.

"Hey-,"

"Oh wait…" the turian snorted, pleased with his own wit, "You probably thought you could just shoot or argue your way through whatever... problems might come up,"

"Usually works," he muttered, trying to look not-drunk as he followed Garrus to the med-bay in case any of the crew were in the mess. Though it was actually really late, come to think of it. Wasn't it? Of course it was. Anyway, there was always the night shift.

The doors to the med-bay opened at Garrus' behest and he strode over to a nearby cabinet.

Much to Shepard's relief, the doc seemed to be elsewhere. Probably hanging out with Adams again. Shepard smirked. He'd have to sic EDI and Joker on them to match-make... if they weren't at it already. _Karin and Aaadams, sittin' ina tree. K I SSSSSSSSS._ He broke out of his thought as he snickered.  
"Ssho…" he said, sliding over to rest his hip against the cabinet next to Garrus.

"Human-Turian basicss. Anti-histaminess, epinephrine," he hesitated, glancing at Shepard, "protein-free lubricant," he added in a tight voice, then snagged the bottle from John's hand and took a swig.

Shepard grinned. "Oh right, the whole, different amino acids thing,"

Garrus sent him a sardonic look, "Why else would I make us drink that crap? It's the only stuff supply can find that's been triple-filtered for proteins,"

 _Shepard and Vakarian. Garrus and me. K-I-S-S-I-N-hheee._  
John was pretty sure he was about to start giggling with excitement. But _Commander Fucking Shepard_ didn't giggle. Or so he was pretty sure. So he scowled and grabbed the bottle back and concentrated on drinking some more of it. 

"So that's why this tastes like shit," Shepard said. He thought it might be his new favorite. 

Garrus grunted in agreement as he shuffled through the cabinet, making a careful stack of packets and vials.

"Hey. Hurry up before EDI rats us out to the doc," Shepard said as the turian paused again to inspect what he'd already collected.

EDI's voice promptly echoed through the room. "Commander Shepard, do you require assistance?"

"NO!" both men shouted.

EDI was silenced. The room was quiet for a moment, then both men looked at each other and burst into chortling laughter that caused serious threats to their ability to keep their balance.

"Come _on_ ," Shepard hissed, leaning forward to peek through the med-bay windows to check and make sure no crew in the mess were paying attention.

"Hang on. I have to find the… where is it," Garrus muttered.

"Sounds like you've done this before," Shepard added, voice going inquisitive.

"Not as such."

Shepard, who watched him select different items with ease, crossed his arms and raised an eyebrow at him. "Uh-huh."

"Standard military information on cross-speciess contact," Garrus said archly.

When that didn't seem to satisfy the smirking Shepard he closed the cabinet door between them and leaned forward to meet Shepard's gaze with his own hawk-like stare, virtually pinning him back against the counter.  
"And, well, you know me," he drawled, "I always like to be prepared."

Suddenly it seemed as though someone must have vented all the air from the med-bay. Shepard's heart was pounding so hard he was pretty sure it might explode.  
"Believe it when I see it," he managed.

Garrus snorted and grabbed the stack of supplies.  
The world went wobbly for a bit when he moved. _Oh right. Drunk._ Shepard remembered.  
"Come on," Garrus said, and strode from the med-bay. 

"Right behind you," he said and stumbled after the turian.

 

By the time they stumbled into Shepard's quarters, Garrus was uncomfortably aroused. The turian strode across the room, managing somehow to stay upright over the stairs, and spilled the supplies over the table. There he seemed to lose momentum, his interim mission accomplished. He tried fiddling with one of the packets. Fiddling: always an effective strategy. He opened the packet of pills meant for him and tossed them back before he could think about it any further.

Shepard followed him holding the bottle of liquor. He plunked it down on the table next to the other supplies, then began the made-difficult-by-drunkenness task of kicking off his boots. He turned a proud grin of accomplishment on his companion when he managed to get both feet free without falling over. His expression turned into a scowl as he walked over and looked at the complicated clasps of Garrus' armor.

Garrus' eyes lit upon him, and seeing him seemed to bring him back to center. He turned to face him and reached out a three-fingered hand to grab a fistful of Shepard's shirt, tugging him closer. Shepard grinned up at him. Deft hands slid down along his straight human sides and then under the cloth of his shirt, dragging it up with them.

Shepard lifted his arms as Garrus tugged the fabric upwards and over his head, tossing it somewhere. His breath caught as he watched the turian's sharp eyes dart over his bared skin. A tentative finger was lifted to trace around his nipple. The muscle of his shoulder and neck were caressed. Slowly Garrus dragged a fingertip along the center line of his taut abdomen, coming to rest on his belt. Then it too was unfastened and discarded.

Shepard teetered, grabbed Garrus' shoulder for support. He was going light-headed, having forgotten to breathe as Garrus stroked his palm down over his crotch. Garrus' eyes narrowed and his mandibles flared as he felt the taut bulge in Shepard's pants, caressed it.

When Shepard moaned, Garrus' eyes snapped to his face. What he saw there must have satisfied him because he resumed his motion with more confidence, stroking firmly through the fabric. He tugged at the clothing till the snap at the top came loose, and then the fabric parted and he could slip it down over Shepard's narrow human hips. The fabric fell to the deck and Shepard kicked it aside.  
He laughed as it got tangled on one foot and he had to grab Garrus' shoulder again while he loosened it. Then he stood upright, completely bare.

Garrus' visor was displaying useless information about elevated heart rates and heightened skin conductance. He yanked it off and tossed it onto the nearby table. He could see even without the tech that Shepard's breathing rate was higher than normal as he watched him study his naked body.

"You ready to chicken out yet?" Shepard said with a smirk.  
"What _is_ it with you and this chicken thing?" Garrus demanded rolling his eyes. 

Garrus quickly touched the clasps to the armor on his arms and loosened it so he could free his hands. He saw Shepard watch him carefully as he pressed fingers into hidden grooves that triggered the releases. After a moment, Shepard's hands joined his in taking off more plates, extra digits making up for precise placement. His chest plates were quickly cast aside. Shepard crouched in front of him to slide questing fingers along his thigh plate and Garrus sucked in a harsh breath of arousal.

He could smell Shepard, everywhere around him, but even more so in the sweat and heat in front of him. There's another scent that he is less familiar with, but one he recognizes just the same. Sex. Arousal. 

His other thigh plate clattered to the ground, then his calves and boots were freed. His throat tightened when Shepard ran those many fingers up over his bare spur, then up his thigh. His pelvic plate was subsequently freed, and then they were both of them completely bare. 

Shepard stood in front of him, and they looked each other over. They scoured each other with their eyes, then slowly, their hands were raised, skin touched and stroked, exploring the surface of each others' bodies.

"Damn Vakarian, and here I thought I was the good looking one," Shepard muttered, tracing the iridescent patterns over his plates.  
He ran his fingers along the shallow depressions where the different ridges met in Garrus' chest. The dip of Garrus' waist got similar attention. He could feel the taut muscle beneath his companion's thick skin flexing as he explored.

Garrus was fascinated with the softness of his human skin, the exposed nature of his sex. Though the human's waist was thick with chorded muscle, there were sensual lines to his shape. Garrus ran hard fingers down the vee of muscle that darted in from Shepard's hips towards his groin, stopping just short of his cock.  
Shepard grit his teeth and his abs flexed at the teasing. He let out a shuddering breath when the turian's fingers slid further down to slide under his turgid cock, then stroked outward.

But Shepard's fingers had not stopped in their quest to investigate differences. Garrus grunted when those strong fingers slid across his pelvic plates, brushing the center seam. Shepard studied him, frowning slightly as he traced the edges of the turian's hips.

"See? Told you that you wouldn't know what to do with a turian in your bedroom," Garrus said, smirking. Damned if he was going to make it easy on the over-confident human.

"Fuck you," Shepard shot back good-naturedly.

"That's the plan," Garrus muttered.  
Shepard grinned at that.

He continued stroking and exploring Garrus' body, watching his face carefully for any reaction. When his fingers caught the slight gap between two center plates and stroked up the seam, Garrus sucked in a tight breath. Shepard repeated the process, watching Garrus' face to confirm his finding. He looked down at his fingers, stroking and exploring the seam. Garrus was fighting hard to keep his plates together just to fuck with him, but the alcohol in his system and the damned erotic feeling of those multiple fingers was making it difficult.

Shepard turned a mischievous gaze up at him, then promptly dropped to one knee.  
When he saw the look on Shepard's face, Garrus came to a sudden realization that went something like: "Oh shit - the _Shepard_ look" which shot a bolt of energy up his spine.  
"What are-," 

Shepard ignored him and stuck his tongue out to stroke it hard along the already loosening seam. 

"Oh fuck," Garrus groaned, the unexpected maneuver shattering what little control he had left. He could feel his plates relax of their own volition and his cock slide down to its external state. 

Shepard smirked up at him.  
"What part of _Commander Fucking Shepard_ do you not get?" he said.  
"What part of _Fucking_ Commander Shepard, do _you_ not get?" Garrus merely growled in reply.

Shepard's eyes lit up at that. "That you are," he muttered with a huge grin on his face. 

He wobbled slightly as he tried to settle into his kneeling position, hands gripping Garrus' thigh just above his spur. He snickered.  
Shepard turned his head and gazed at Garrus' now exposed length. The skin was a darker more bluish shade that matched the lowlight of the faint iridescence on the turian's surface skin. Shepard reached a hand up to stroke its length. Now it is Garrus' turn to let out a pleased sound, a low clicking purr. 

Shepard met his gaze with a pleased smile and repeated the touch, tracing the ridges and lines of his erection. Though slightly larger than the human's it was somewhat differently shaped. Not so strictly rounded. It curved upwards a bit, and there was more of a peak at the tip. It was covered in clearly defined ridges and bumps. There was a slight sheen to it, much like the rest of the turian's bared skin. 

Garrus watched the human lick his lips absently, and he had an idea what might be coming next. He tensed in excitement at the thought. The vids had certainly suggested it was a pleasurable experience. Turian forum posts, from those brave enough to risk it, unequivocally named it something one should do before dying. 

But when Shepard turned his head back and leaned in, opening his mouth, Garrus couldn’t stop the reflexive backwards jerk of his hips.  
"Shit, I..." he said, embarrassed at his involuntary response that had put a half-meter of distance between them.

Shepard sat back on his haunches, looked up at him calmly. He tilted his head to the side, studying him with those inscrutable Commander Shepard eyes, evaluating the situation.  
"I take it turians don't..." he said, waving a hand absently.

Garrus shook his head. "Teeth," he added lamely. He ducked his head, pissed at himself for jolting them both out of momentum.  
Now he was regretting being so drunk. He couldn't think. He glanced at the human, who was kneeling on the deck a few feet away.  
He didn't know what to do. 

Shepard held his gaze, mulling over this new information. He showed no signs of rejecting him, about which fact Garrus felt infinitely relieved.  
Garrus watched his eyes narrow as they both darted looks over each others' bodies, arousal re-asserting its presence between them.  
Shepard with that careless smirk, his taut muscles exposed where he knelt, erection hanging between his legs.  
They stared at each other, and he could feel the heat and tension levels slowly begin to rise again, sense the taut string pulling between them growing stronger and more vital again. 

Then Commander Fucking Shepard pursed his lips.  
"Garrus Vakarian," he said, eyes bright with mischief. "Are you telling me," 

Garrus turned sharp eyes on him.

"that you're-,"

 _oh fuck_  
"Don't say it," Garrus growled.

"- chicken," Shepard said with a grin

"Damnit,"

"Over my teeth?"

"I am not," Garrus replied, indignant.

"Are too," Shepard taunted.

"Not," he insisted.

"Scaredy cat," 

"Not even close, whatever the fuck a cat is," he growled, striding back over. 

Shepard was grinning at him in triumph. 

He tangled fingers in Shepard's soft hair, tugging his head back so that his open mouth lined up with his ridged erection. Before he could think the better of it, he thrust forward, driving himself into Shepard's waiting mouth. Shepard didn't even hesitate, closing his lips over him, enveloping him in soft wet heat.

_Spirits_

The forums were right. 

He groaned, a low guttural sound, as Shepard swirled his broad tongue around the lines and ridges of his cock. The way his tongue dipped and rolled over every line, every groove was something he had never imagined. Or the way he was just standing there, not doing anything, and still receiving some of the most intensely pleasurable sensations he had ever experienced.

The human began rocking his head forward and back, sucking hard. Garrus gasped, hand closing reflexively over Shepard's shoulder. Shepard's hands wrapped around the shaft of Garrus's cock to follow the motions of his mouth. Regardless of what he had or had not done with turians, the man clearly had some experience with the technique. 

It was too much. His senses were already overloaded from the excessive amount of alcohol in his system. The hot soft mouth of the human was exquisite torture. Any more and Shepard wouldn't have a chance to take the anti-histamines. He stepped back before he was pushed over the edge, freeing himself from Shepard's mouth with a pop. His erection glistened with saliva.

"It's too… that's intense," he muttered.

Shepard grinned at him.

"Take your damn pills, Shepard," Garrus demanded, pointing at the packet on the table.

Shepard leaned over and grabbed the indicated slip, popping the pills out.  
"Garrus Vakarian; _not_ afraid of teeth. Point," he said, and chased them down with another swig of terrible booze.

Garrus stepped back towards the bed on shaky feet. He sat, erection painfully hard and tingling with the cool air meeting the hot saliva. Shepard came over, bottle of booze in one hand, tube of lubricant in the other. He tossed both on the bed next to Garrus as the turian reached up and gripped his hips, lining him up so he stood in front of him.

Shepard ran a hand over Garrus's mandible, then up to his cheekbone and down over his inner face, running a fingertip over the sharp row of teeth exposed by Garrus's slackened jaw.

"I see what you mean," he said, continuing the caress. 

"Chicken," Garrus teased, nipping at the fingers on his lips with said teeth.

"Wanna bet?" Shepard replied, looking down at him with a challenging smirk.

Garrus looks up at him with wide eyes, then down at the human's delicate skin and sizable cock. He looked back up into his gaze. Shepard's expression never wavered, and his nostrils flared in arousal.

"You're crazy, Shepard," he drawled. But he acknowledged defeat with another swig of alcohol.

Instead of returning Shepard's oral maneuver, he grasped the lubricant and put some into his palm. He spread it smoothly up the length of Shepard's erection, stroking it with a firm grip. Shepard grinned at him and sighed with pleasure. The unfamiliar ridges and arrangement of Garrus's triadic fingers caused exciting sensations as Garrus stroked him carefully, getting acquainted.

He caressed Shepard's quad… no… he paused, stroking around the rounded protrusions.  
"Hhnnn," Shepard rumbled appreciatively as Garrus added his other hand to the motion, exploring further down between the human's legs.  
Pair, he decided, shaking his head at the oddity.  
He'd never touched a human this way before, but he knew how he liked to be touched. He hoped that would be translatable.  
He wrapped both hands around Shepard's erection and stroked the length of it. He twisted his hands in opposite directions to each other as he tugged. He then ran them the other way, untwisting as he pushed his hands back to Shepard's groin.  
Shepard made an appreciative sound, letting a hand rise to stroke the top of Garrus's head. Idle fingers traced the lengths of his fringe as he worked his own hands firmly along Shepard's hardness. Shepard's breathing had grown tight, sucking in and out in short huffs. He rocked his head back, stroking Garrus's fringe in a positively filthy way - though he doubted the human knew that.

"Enough," Shepard murmurs, stepping to the side and sitting down next to Garrus on the bed. He presses himself close, thighs touching, bare chest against his sinewy arm. He nuzzles his face in the crook of Garrus's neck, running a hand over his chest, down his broad shoulder. Garrus strokes his waist, nuzzling his neck in return, nipping gently at his ear.  
Shepard sighs in pleasure and reaches past him for the tube of lubricant. More is squeezed onto his palms and he reaches down to coat Garrus's length. He presses wet little kisses on the turian's throat as he strokes his hand over him.  
The trilling growl he gets in reply goes straight to his groin.

"Time to make good on your boast, Vakarian," he teases, pushing himself back with a jab of fingers at the turian's hard chest.  
He crawls further up the bed, and then kneels, his back to the turian. Leaning forward on one hand, he spreads his knees. He takes the lube and places some on his hand, then reaches back and spreads it in the cleft of his backside, swirling his fingers over his tight opening until it is slick and glistening. 

Garrus is mesmerized. When he looks up, he realizes Shepard is gazing back at him over his shoulder. For the first time that night, he sees the tell-tale reddening of the human's face skin. Shepard looks away, removing his blushing face from sight.

"If you tell me this also isn't something turians do, then I'm afraid that means you definitely lose," Shepard tossed over his shoulder, back tight with anxiety. 

"Oh, no," Garrus rumbles, taking his cue only a beat late and sliding up behind Shepard.  
"This is most definitely something we do," he breathed into his ear, pressing his chest against Shepard's back.  
His lube-slickened erection slides along the join of Shepard's backside, and he nuzzles the human's neck, breath hot and moist on his skin. 

"Good," Shepard manages, pressing back against him.

Garrus slips a hand down between them to stroke and explore the tight skin of Shepard's opening. He slides a finger inside him, slick with lubricant and sweat. He pumps it forward, sinking deeper into him. Shepard groans, his head falling forward, the muscles in his back rippling.  
Garrus removes his finger but replaces it with the peaked head of his cock, slipping it slowly past the taut ring of muscle. 

"Yes," Shepard moans, "Garrus, yes."

Garrus lets a low sound of pleasure reverberate through his chest as he inches forward, sinking himself deeply into Shepard's body. 

The first thrusts are slow and gentle, adjusting to each others' bodies. Their voices mingle in low gasps and purring rumbles as they slide together.

Then heat is all they can think about. Garrus digs his fingers into Shepard's hips, pulling him tight against his own. He drags back slowly, then slams himself home. Shepard arches against him, tightening his legs tangled with the turian's. Garrus's strength is enough to keep him propped up on his knees, arched back as the turian lifts his hips into him. The position is unfamiliar to the human, but is wracking his body with overwhelming pleasure. He feels completely opened, heart rocketing in his chest, drunk in a literal as well as figurative sense.

Garrus closes a hand around Shepard's cock, stroking it hard. Shepard cries out wordlessly, reaches back and clutches tightly muscled thighs. The noises reverberating from Garrus' throat are raw and sensual. Shepard is cursing incoherently as the turian's unfamiliar hand moves over his erection at a frenetic pace. 

He is shaking, gasping for breath as he comes, spilling himself into Garrus' hand and over his thighs. He does not stop thrusting himself back on Garrus' length as he bows against the turian's chest, head lolling back onto his shoulder.  
Garrus bites down hard on Shepard's shoulder, hips slamming up in one last thrust before he spasms, clutching Shepard to him as he orgasms, with a cry wild and open throated as only alcohol enables. 

They collapse together onto tangled sheets. They don't bother rolling apart - they're both too drunk and exhausted to manage the task of disentangling their limbs at this point.

"Wha… wait," Shepard mumbles. 

"Hmm," Garrus simply grumbles, wrapping the arm around his waist even tighter.

"I have to…"

Shepard keeps fumbling with one hand around the bed till it bumps into the bottle of alcohol.

"Point," he says, taking one final sip. "You win." 

The last thing he hears before drifting off into oblivion is the resonant sound of Garrus' purring chuckle.


End file.
